


8am (Firsts in College)

by meanderingmirth



Series: Firsts [2]
Category: VIXX
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A list of Wonshik and Hongbin’s firsts, in the same 8am lecture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	8am (Firsts in College)

**Author's Note:**

> more 'firsts'! ´･ᴗ･`
> 
> helpful hint for firsts years- don't ever take 8am classes. trust me, it's not worth it lol
> 
> hope you enjoy!
> 
> (also posted on tumblr)

**First Meeting** : There’s a crowd standing in front of the closed doors of lecture hall 1015, and that surprises Wonshik because one, it’s an 8am lecture, and two, it’s a Monday morning. But it’s also the first Monday morning of the first week of school, so if anybody’s ever going to bother showing up for this class it’d be today and never again from this point onwards. Swallowing yet another yawn, Wonshik jealously eyeballs some of his classmates’ thermoses and paper cups, no doubt full of piping hot coffee or some equally brain-simulating drink for the early class. He’d have his own drink too if Sanghyuk didn’t end up with an afternoon class for today, and therefore wasn’t awake to wake Wonshik on time this morning. His roommate was basically his second alarm; Wonshik wasn’t even embarrassed admitting that now. He’s useless in the mornings.

The professor arrives; tall, mid-forties, balding slightly already. He’s got a copy of the textbook tucked under his arm and has a truly heinous corduroy jacket on. Wonshik groans internally. It’s going to be a  _fascinating_  class this year, that’s for certain. The group outside slowly shuffles forwards, and like always everybody tries to push through one door when there were clearly two doors leading into the lecture hall. Rolling his eyes, Wonshik squeezed between two girls in matching sweaters to yank open the second door. The hinges squealed as he jerked the door back a little too forcefully, and on the other side of the wood somebody slapped their hand against the window to keep it from hitting their face.

“Oh shit, sorry man,” Wonshik apologizes, voice scratchy, and his classmate leans around the corner, a little wide-eyed. His black hair is a wavy mess around his face, gathered up in a lazy little bun at the back of his head with a few wispy strands hanging about his face.

“It’s okay,” his classmate replies, and Wonshik ducks his head before walking into the classroom, goosebumps rising on his arms because of the chilliness. He would’ve brought a sweater with him, but he barely had any time to dress and eat this morning. As he climbs the stairs and selects a seat about one-third of the way up, Wonshik wonders if he should start sleeping in this clothes the night before this class.

+

 **First awkward moment** : 19th and 20th Century Literature class takes place twice a week, once on Monday morning and the other on Wednesday, both at 8am, and Wonshik can already see himself missing about 70% of his classes because of his inability to keep his eyelids open before noon. Nonetheless, he tries his best to drag his sorry ass out of the comforts of his bed a week later, phone buzzing on his mattress and the alarm clock Hakyeon had pointedly gifted him for Christmas last year losing its shit on his desk. Wonshik turned everything off, ate some of Sanghyuk’s leftovers for breakfast, and ran into the doorway on the way out.

When he gets to class, the wavy-haired guy is sitting in the same row Wonshik usually picks, head pillowed in his folded arms and headphones in his ears. Wonshik drops his bag and plops down in the chair he’s unofficially claimed for the year, taking out his notebook to doodle on until the prof strolls in, wearing a heinous wool sweater today. The class is already at half capacity, second week blues clearly making its sweep across campus. Wonshik stifles another yawn as the classroom lights dim and the projector hums to life, lighting up the screen with the powerpoint. Next to him, the wavy-haired guy sits up, pulling his headphones out of his ears with a bleary look on his face. Wonshik leans forwards in his seat to open to a fresh page, and that’s when it happens.

The old and well-used seat creaks under his movement, and the sound that manages to puncture the silent classroom is one that resembles an unmistakably sharp, fast fart.

Wonshik freezes.

Two people from the row on the other side of the stairs turn to look at him and so does the wavy-haired guy, but Wonshik is too surprised to move. He stares ahead at the professor, who’s lecturing on, blissfully unaware of the events that just unfolded in the hall. Oh god. Why him, Wonshik thought as he mentally curls in on himself. Why this.

He sits back again, hoping to squeak his chair to prove that it wasn’t what everybody thought it was, but to Wonshik’s dismay, the stupid chair stays belligerently silent. Perfect, he thinks, fighting the urge to imitate Taekwoon’s signature crawling-under-the-desk move. The next two hours were going to be awkward as hell.

+

 **First one-on-one interaction** : Class ends, thankfully, without any further disruptions from Wonshik’s chair, and the prof had barely closed his book with a dry, “See you all on Wednesday” before those who bothered to show up were shovelling their notebooks and pens into their bags, yawning and hurrying for the exit. Wonshik stands and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at the measly page of notes he managed to scribble down between shrivelling up in embarrassment and nodding off to sleep. Maybe he’ll just never show up to this class ever again. 8am start time  _and_  today’s humiliating incident? Sorely tempting.

He was in the middle of contemplating the seventy-five percent refund that came along with dropping a course when he heard somebody clearing his throat behind him.

“Sorry...” wavy-haired guy said, glancing apologetically at Wonshik and the traitorous chair blocking the aisle. Flushing, Wonshik quickly stepped aside and shoved the chair aside, mumbling an apology. Wavy-haired guy gave him something akin to a pitying smile in return and walked away, tugging his jacket on as he went, and Wonshik watched him. For a moment he just stood, brain still moving a little sluggishly, and then impulse struck and he scooped all his belongings up in his arms to chase after his classmate.

“Hey! Hey, wait!”

Wavy-haired guy was already heading down the hall when Wonshik finally busted out of the lecture room, almost tripping over an uneven tile on the ground. The guy stopped, watching Wonshik run over with a look of surprise on his face.

“Yes...?”

“I just wanted to say,” Wonshik panted, shifting his textbook and notebook in his arms. “That in lecture, that sound, it wasn’t me. Well, actually, it was me, but it wasn’t what you think it was, I swear to god it was my chair, I just sat back and it made a noise and made everything awkward as fuck, so, uh... I... yeah,” he finished, swallowing as wavy-haired guy stared back at him, wide-eyed again.

“I-I see,” his classmate said slowly, confusion evident in his voice. He laced his fingers together for a moment, mouth open as he gave Wonshik a once-over, and then asked, “I thought it might’ve been the chair too, really, those things are so old, but why did you want to tell me that...?”

Wonshik paused. Wavy-haired guy had a point; why did he?

“Uh, well, you were sitting closest to me at the time, and I didn’t want you to reach the end of the day and think that you started your morning next to some asshole who can’t control his own farts? Also, I kinda don’t want that misunderstanding to brand me fart guy for the rest of the year either.”

Wavy-haired guy’s eyes widened, and to Wonshik’s surprise his classmate suddenly burst out laughing, doubling over momentarily as he did. When he straightened up, Wonshik could see two dimples on either side of the guy’s cheeks.

“Oh my god,” wavy-haired guy said, clutching his sides as he laughed. “That’s just— you just made my morning, that was great.”

Wonshik let out a puff of air, chortling as he did a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here every Mondays and Wednesday mornings at eight. Regretfully.”

Wavy-haired guy was still chuckling as he stuck his hand out towards Wonshik. “I’d be around too, if I don’t manage to sleep through my alarms. My name’s Hongbin, by the way. Good to meet you.”

Wonshik takes the hand, and shakes. “I’m Wonshik, and likewise. Glad I could clear things up.”

Hongbin’s eyes are glittering with mirth as he grins. “Me too, man.”

+

 **First one to fall** : When they swapped numbers the following Wednesday and added each other on facebook, they discovered they had one mutual friend; Sanghyuk. Turns out Sanghyuk had met Hongbin in first year when Hongbin was volunteering at the art club’s booth during frosh week, only to meet again in Art History 101 the same year. Small world it was.

“So you’re in the art club?” Wonshik had asked when the two of them lounged around after class, packing their books away.

“Oh no, I was filling in for a friend that day. I’m actually an on and off member of the photography club,” Hongbin said sheepishly. “I took a course in first year and kinda got hooked on it, so it’s something of a hobby now.”

But it wasn’t until around early November that Wonshik actually saw Hongbin with his camera, and that was when his classmate showed up fifteen minutes late for their study session at Sanghyuk and Wonshik’s flat.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hongbin had said, cheeks red from the cold and camera bag slung across his shoulder and over his backpack. “It started snowing and the way the snowflakes were collecting on the fence outside of the recreation centre was really nice; I just couldn’t resist.”

“That’s fine,” Wonshik said, but then Sanghyuk came out of the washroom with his paints and asked, “When are you going to properly submit your works for the art show?”

Hongbin’s mouth turned down a little, but then the frown was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Maybe next time,” he shrugged as he took a seat on the squashy sofa, watching Sanghyuk shove Wonshik’s textbook off the coffee table to make room for his paints. The conversation was quickly forgotten when a small scuffle broke out between Wonshik and Sanghyuk, and then things eventually turned into a discussion about what would show up on their literature midterm test.

They alternated between studying at Wonshik’s place and Hongbin’s, because sometimes Sanghyuk was prone to go on one of his artistic sprees and Hongbin’s roommate Jaehwan would occasionally practice his singing in the flat when the practice rooms were completely booked. Whoever had the quieter apartment would play host, and if things ran late, the visitor would buy dinner for the night. Wonshik figures they’d reached a milestone in their friendship when they stayed up till 3am the night before their midterm and Hongbin said between yawns, “You can stay over tonight, just borrow Jaehwan’s sleeping bag and we’ll go down to lecture together in the morning.”

The midterm was gruelling, but nothing the professor hadn’t covered in class and nothing they hadn’t reviewed again and again during their study sessions. Wonshik wrote until he had nothing left to wring out of his brain and he handed his test in with fifteen minutes left on the clock. Hongbin had finished a little earlier and was sitting on one of the benches by the pay phones, going through some photos on his camera. He looked up when Wonshik staggered out of the classroom and grinned.

“All done?”

“Five hundred percent done,” Wonshik groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I think my brain’s turned into a puddle.”

“If we head out I’m sure it’ll freeze back into shape,” Hongbin snickers, zipping his jacket up as they walked towards the building’s exit. It was snowing again when they pushed the doors open, a blast of refreshing cold air blowing Hongbin’s wavy hair out of his face as they walked. The snow collected in clusters at their feet and Wonshik let out a childish whoop as he leapt into the snowbank, landing knee-deep in the fluff as he kicked his feet.

“Freedom!” he hollers up to the grey sky, arms spread as he sticks his tongue out for a snowflake. Grinning he turns to see where Hongbin is, secretly hoping to start a snowball fight, but then Hongbin his lifting his camera and shouting, “Hold that pose!”

The camera flashes, leaving a spot in Wonshik’s vision, and then Hongbin is checking his camera again, dimples on his cheeks as he smiles and says, “Perfect shot!” and oh— it’s not Wonshik’s brain but his insides that are suddenly melting when Hongbin beams at him and turns his camera around to show Wonshik the photo he’s taken.

A lot of things might confuse him, but the fluttering he feels in his chest when Hongbin smiles at him is a feeling Wonshik knows well enough.

+

 **First confession** : Their year-long literature class doesn’t have an exam until the end of April, so the two of them end up studying for their own exams from half-year courses during the study week in December. Wonshik misses hanging out with Hongbin, but he figures it’s for the best; he might not actually focus at all if he’s cooped up for hours in the same room as his crush.

Well, Sanghyuk’s the one who calls it a crush; Wonshik thinks that’s a silly word.

“Then what else are you gonna call it?” Sanghyuk demands, some yellow paint smeared on his cheek as he contemplates his artwork. Wonshik rolls his eyes and stares at his notes on Shakespeare’s plays.

“I dunno, but definitely not that.”

“Oh, don’t be so in denial,” Sanghyuk says, shooting Wonshik a grin. “Call it what it is and stop pretending you’re too ‘old’ for a crush.”

“Wonshik’s got a crush?” Hakyeon says, popping out of the kitchen with a tray of hot coca in his hands. “Who? Do I know them? Is it a guy or a girl? Are they in his year?”

“None of your business mom,” Wonshik begins, but Sanghyuk, the jerk, immediately spills the beans and says, “It’s a guy in Wonshik’s literature class and his name is Hongbin.”

“Oi!” Wonshik protests. Hakyeon is probably second-worst at keeping secrets, with Sanghyuk confirming his position as the absolute worst with that moment of utter betrayal.

“Hongbin? As in Lee Hongbin?” Hakyeon asks, setting the tray down on the coffee table while Taekwoon stays curled on the sofa, eating his way through Wonshik’s stash of snacks. “Hey, Taekwoon, isn’t he the guy who rooms with Jaehwan?”

“Mhm,” Taekwoon replies disinterestedly, poking around the bag of shrimp crackers.

“Wait, how do you know Jaehwan and Hongbin?” Wonshik asks.

“Jaehwan’s in Taekwoon’s musical composition class. They worked on a project together,” Hakyeon shrugs. “Jaehwan came over to our place once because he said his roommate was studying with a friend and he didn’t want to disturb them with his singing. Which in turn ended up disturbing  _me_ , I might add.”

“But you’re in the dance studio most of the time anyways,” Taekwoon says, expression a tad bit surly, and Wonshik can practically see Hakyeon’s boyfriend radar immediately pick up the hint and zero in on Taekwoon’s mild complaint.

“I’m sorry, you know I’ve been busy practicing for the showcase,” Hakyeon soothes, taking Taekwoon’s hand. “Besides, term’s almost over, and after you finish your exams we’re free to spend more time together over the holidays, okay?”

“Speaking of spending time together, why are you two over at our place anyway?” Wonshik interrupts, eyeing the pile of empty snack bags surrounding Taekwoon. “If you wanted quality time together I don’t think our apartment’s the place for it.”

Hakyeon huffs and gestures to the drinks he’s made. “Wow, I spend my time making some brain food for you guys and I don’t even get a word of thanks.”

“It’s our hot coca mix.”

“Besides the point. I know the two of you would rather spend three bucks on coffee from the cafe because even making instant coffee is too much of a hassle for you both.”

“True,” Sanghyuk says without looking up, and Wonshik nods in agreement. Hakyeon slants them his infamous stink eye and continues. “It’s a wonder you two have survived until now, but that’s also not my point. I came over to tell you guys to drop by our place the Saturday before Christmas Eve because we’re having a dinner slash party thing and it’ll be great!”

“Are your noisy dance friends gonna be there too?” Wonshik asks.

“Forgive me for having more friends than just you and Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon scoffs. “I’m inviting Jaehwan too, and I’ll get him to bring Hongbin along so you won’t have to talk to my dance classmates, okay?”

“Don’t do that,” Wonshik says, alarmed. “You’re gonna try to set me up with your abysmal matchmaking skills and I am not going to stand for it.”

“How rude. It’s not like you’re going to take initiative otherwise.”

“I can so take initiative!”

“Says the guy who won’t even admit to having a crush,” Sanghyuk snickers, and Wonshik proceeds throws one of Taekwoon’s wrappers at his roommate’s head.

Hongbin texts him on a Thursday evening after their exams are over, saying,  _Your friend Hakyeon invited Jaehwan to a party and Jaehwan’s insisting I come along too, so you have to show up because I don’t know anybody other than Sanghyuk and it’s gonna be awkward as hell, okay?_

And all Wonshik could do after five minutes of groaning face-first into his pillow was reply,  _Okay._

-

Taekwoon and Hakyeon live in a narrow, four-storey townhouse about ten minutes away from campus with one of Hakyeon’s dance classmates, Jackson. It’s definitely not a bad place for a party because Hakyeon’s other classmates live in the houses on either side of his so whenever a unit throws a bash the other two inadvertently become extensions to that said bash. Their house is bigger and better furnished that Wonshik’s shared apartment because Taekwoon has taste for interior decorating and Hakyeon likes to stress clean, but tonight most of the house is buried under partying college students with varying degrees of drunkenness. The party was in full swing by the time Wonshik and Sanghyuk let themselves in, discarding their coats and boots by the doorway. There was a small crowd of people sitting in the living room, surrounded by snacks and drinks.

“Wonshik! Sanghyuk! Perfect timing, we’re just starting a new round!” Sungjae calls, waving them over.

“What are you guys playing?” Sanghyuk asks, bouncing into the circle.

“Cards against humanity!” Jaehwan crows. “And Hakyeon’s already on his fourth shot of tequila, so it’s finally getting fun!”

“I’m fun with and without tequila!” Hakyeon protests, swaying slightly, and Taekwoon pats his shoulder soothingly, nursing a single bottle of beer. Wonshik passes the Christmas gifts he and Sanghyuk brought over to Taekwoon, who looks a whole lot more functional than Hakyeon is at the moment. He spots Hongbin on Jaehwan’s other side, wearing his giant hipster glasses and a comfy blue sweater. Hongbin waves him over, smiling, and Wonshik feels his chest constrict for a fraction of a second before he walks around and sits down next to his friend.

“Been a while,” Hongbin greets, clapping Wonshik on the back as Minhyuk starts to deal the cards, albeit a bit wobbly. Wonshik’s ears heat up as he nods back.

“Yeah. How were exams?”

“Good. Pretty sure language theory has reduced my brain to mush by now.”

“So of course the follow-up action is to go out and party and drink like no tomorrow,” Wonshik snickers, making Hongbin slant him a look of mock indignation.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

Cards against humanity lasts for roughly an hour, during which everything steadily descended into chaos as more beverages were consumed and the colours started to meld in Wonshik’s vision. Hongbin’s companionable shoulder leaning against his no longer made his entire body tense, and more or less reduced him into a glob of happy goo. He’d never admit it, but Sanghyuk was beyond right about it being a crush.

The game ended when an extremely bored pizza delivery guy finally came by with their order at around ten and was coerced into joining a group of dance majors in a flashmob on the doorstep. Then somebody gave him a slice of cake along with the tip and Wonshik honestly couldn’t remember all that much after the truly potent jaegerbomb he downed earlier finally kicked in. Eventually, he found himself curled up on the sofa watching Hongbin play some horror game with an unnaturally competitive Taekwoon until his bladder finally began to protest. Groaning, he hoisted himself off the cushions and poked Hongbin in the ribs.

“M’ using the washroom,” he manages to say, and Hongbin makes a noise of understanding before yelling in terror as Taekwoon’s character appears out of nowhere and starts beating the shit out of his.

People always said that you don’t realize how drunk you are until you’re alone in the bathroom, but Wonshik’s pretty sure he’s knows how wasted he is when staggering up the stairs alone takes him a good five minutes. However, even with all the alcohol he consumed, there was no way Wonshik could’ve imagined Sanghyuk and Jaehwan together in the washroom when he throws the door open, their arms and legs so tangled around each other that it was impossible to tell whose limbs were whose.

“Holy shit,” Wonshik says, vaguely realizing why he’d lost track of his roommate sometime after the flashmob, and Sanghyuk stops sucking face with Jaehwan long enough to turn and glare at Wonshik.

“Do you mind?” he splutters, cheeks red as he pushed Wonshik out with his foot and kicked the door shut behind him. Wonshik stares at the closed door with a scrunched expression, feeling a mixture of nausea and hilarity bubbling inside him.

“What are you doing?” Hongbin asks, suddenly popping up beside him, and Wonshik jumps.

“Weren’t you gaming with Taekwoon?”

“Taekwoon slaughtered me again in less then five minutes,” Hongbin replies, a haunted look in his eyes, and then he jerks his chin to the washroom. “Are you so drunk that you can’t even open a door?”

“Real funny,” Wonshik grumbles, making Hongbin snicker. “My roommate is making out with your roommate in there.”

Hongbin’s eyes widened and he darted forwards to shove the door open. Sanghyuk let out an indignant squawk and Jaehwan yells, “Is there no privacy in this house?!” and then Hongbin is staggering backwards into Wonshik, laughing his head off.

“At least lock the door, you idiot!” he yells, grabbing Wonshik’s wrist and tugging him back down the stairs.

“I still gotta pee,” Wonshik complained, his wrist warm where Hongbin’s fingers are curled around him, but Hongbin was grinning at him again and his mind was woozy so he figured whatever it was his friend had in mind probably took precedence to peeing. The two of them managed to stumble back downstairs and squeeze through the crowd in the kitchen onto the deck, where it was snowing again outside. The flakes were scarce, but the fresh air was enough to jolt Wonshik back to some of his senses, and for a moment he was thrown back to the time Hongbin took his photo outside in the snow after their midterms with a dizzying rush of emotion.

“Oh my god,” Hongbin laughs, grabbing onto Wonshik’s shoulder for support. “I’ll never let Jaehwan live that down, holy shit.”

Hongbin’s dimples are really nice, Wonshik thinks, and then startles a little when Hongbin snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Hey, are you drunk?”

“Of course I’m not I am,” Wonshik says immediately, nonsense spilling from his mouth, and Hongbin’s eyes crinkles as he smiles. It makes his head rush again.

“How many drinks did you have? Oi, Wonshik.”

“You have little moon craters on either side of your face,” Wonshik manages to say as his head tips back and he’s seeing vague outlines of clouds against the inky night sky with arms around his waist and then—

—he wakes up in bed the next morning beside a snoring Hakyeon, feeling like somebody had just beat him over the head with a baseball bat, and wonders if throwing himself off the roof after remembering the nonsense he’d said to Hongbin the night before would constitute as a dramatically tragic Shakespearian end.

(Maybe not, but when he accidentally steps on Taekwoon’s sleeping form on the floor as he gets out of bed, then that just might be the way he’ll go).

-

He goes home after the party and in between moving some of his stuff back in and greeting his parents and crying over how much his younger sister has grown, he hardly gets a chance to think back to Hongbin and the others until the end of the year, quite literally. He gets a few prematurely sent new year’s greetings on the night of December 31st as he lies in bed and was in the middle of grilling Sanghyuk for details about Jaehwan when his phone rings.

It’s Hongbin.

Throat suddenly very dry, Wonshik picks up. “Are you calling about new year’s too?”

On the other side, Hongbin laughs. “You read my mind. That’s one of the reasons why I called, yes. Happy almost new year.”

“It’s only 11:50,” Wonshik snorted. “But happy new year to you too. Are you drinking to commemorate a pretty much annual thing?”

“Not after Hakyeon’s party,” Hongbin chortles, and Wonshik’s stomach flips. “I think I can still feel the hangover.”

“Amen to that.”

“Oh yeah, sorry for leaving you behind at the end of the evening,” Hongbin says sheepishly, his voice tinny over the phone’s speakers. “You were passed out and I had too much to function properly. Taekwoon offered to let you stay, something about feeling bad for eating all your snacks, so I just stuck you under the covers and went home. Kinda wish I didn’t though, because Jaehwan ended up bringing Sanghyuk over.”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding,” Wonshik says, suddenly very invested and very grossed out. “How did you survive the night?”

Hongbin bursts out laughing. “It was okay, they kept their hands to themselves, but then Sanghyuk accidentally decided to spill some beans while Jaehwan and I were hauling him through the door, so... I guess that’s why I’m calling.”

All the air seemed to vanish from Wonshik’s lungs. Damn that cheeky brat. “What’d he spill?” he asks after a pause, bracing himself.

“That you don’t believe in crushes,” Hongbin answers, voice softer now. “And that you probably still believe in cooties.”

“God damn it Han Sanghyuk,” Wonshik thunders, and he hears Hongbin collapsing over his giggles on the other side. “I do not believe in cooties. And I just think the word ‘crush’ is juvenile, that’s all.”

“Then what else would you call it?”

“I dunno? Sometimes just saying ‘like’ is good enough.”

“I see...” Hongbin hums. And then, he says something very unexpected: “So could I call the feelings I have for you as ‘like’? As in, ‘I like you’?”

Wonshik drops his phone, and has to scramble to pick it up.

“You what?” he stammers, heart beating too fast in his chest. Hongbin chuckles, sounding a bit nervous, and says, “Don’t make me repeat myself, Wonshik, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not quite sure I heard right,” Wonshik says, voice pitched, daring himself to hope, and Hongbin groans.

“It’s cheesy enough of me to confess to you on new year’s eve, you ass, so don’t try and make things any more complicated and just tell me your answer.”

“You say it like you already know what my answer will be,” Wonshik says, unable to stop the grin from spreading on his face.

“Duh. I told you, Sanghyuk spilled the beans. All of it.”

“I’m gonna give him the worst noogie of his life when I get back,” Wonshik says. “After I go say hi to my new boyfriend first, of course.” The words that leave his mouth makes him giddy with happiness, but the delighted laugh he hears on the other side only serve to make him fall all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to split this up into two parts because it got too long... even though 4k isn't all that much lmao
> 
> hopefully I'll get the second part up soon! (side eyes my other incomplete work)
> 
> anyways. I'll be back, oh ho (ᅌᴗᅌ* )


End file.
